A Bleached Christmas Carol
by Pyrrha615
Summary: A Bleach version of Dicken's classic tale. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, a man who hates christmas is visited by three ghosts who want to change his ways.
1. Chapter 1

_So this is kinda late to start now but the idea came to me just now and I haven't seen a Bleach version of A Christmas Carol so I thought I would write one (sorry if anyone has done this already! I didn't make sure it hadn't been done!,) anyway on with the show as it were... Lots of OOCness and possibly a bit of Grimmichi cause I can't resist._

A Christmas carol – Part One: the announcement

Aizen was dead, dead as a doornail, that much was true. He had been for years, and Grimmjow's soul had not thawed an inch.

He walked through the London streets, the snow compacted by thousands of pounding feet into an ice rink. His steps were solid and careful. He looked around him at the busy Christmas Eve scene. Street sellers talked animatedly to their customers and passer by alike. He gazed at them briefly, azure eyes sweeping over them, sharp and cold as ice. He rounded a corner to be greeted by the sight of the Las Noches offices, his workplace. They were the biggest property owners in London, with thousands of tenants across the city. He paused at the door, sharp ears detecting the din of chattering employees inside. He leaned heavily on the door and forced it open.

"What do you think you're doing?" his voice was almost a roar as he burst into the offices, the workers falling over themselves as they tried to look busy. None of them had the guts or stupidity to answer back to him; continuing hurriedly with their work as their boss removed the hat that was crushing his blueberry hair and hung his heavy coat on the stand. "Good, Christmas as an unemployed man would not be a good one!"

"Sorry Mr. Jeagerjaques" a few of the braver employees mumbled their apologies to him, not looking up from their work.

Grimmjow didn't feel the cold in the offices, but his employees were hunched at their desks, heavy winter coats still hung about their shoulders as they scribbled in their books. The blue haired man moved to his desk at the back of the building, nearest the open fire which served as the only method of heating the large and draughty building. He had sat and busied himself for little more than ten minutes when a shy cough announced another presence in his office. He looked up to be met with dark eyes enclosed behind half framed glasses.

"Ah, Mr. Ishida" he set his pen down on the mahogany desk and gave his employee more attention "What is it you want?" he pierced the thin, yet tall, man with an icy stare.

"Well, sir, we were wondering-" Uryuu Ishida paused as a mumble of discontent flowed through the offices behind him before correcting himself "I mean I was wondering if you would be so kind as to-"

"Get to the point will you!" he waved an impatient hand at Ishida, eager to get on with his work.

"Yes, sorry sir, could you please put some more coal on the fire, the offices are cold and-"

"You have a coat Mr. Ishida, which should keep you more than warm enough. Get back to work" Grimmjow's voice matched the chill in the office perfectly as he spoke to the man.

"Mr. Jeagerjaques-"

"Back to work Mr. Ishida!" Grimmjow slammed his fist onto the desk forcefully, the loud bang stirring a jump from the dark haired man. He turned on his heel quickly and left his boss' office. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and picked his pen back up off of the dark wooden desk.

"Brother!" a shrill female voice filled the office, accompanied by a cold draught as the door was opened and closed behind the curvaceous woman.

"Neliel, what the hell are you doing here?" he had no ounce of pleasure in his voice at the arrival of his only relative. She swept her sea green hair to one side before answering him.

"I came to wish you a Merry Christmas brother!" she smiled, her big eyes wide with happiness, the eyes she had inherited from their mother.

"Humbug!" Grimmjow let his pen drop to the desk again, furious that he had done basically nothing in the twenty minutes he had been at the office. If there was one thing he hated it was lack of productivity. In fact there were lots of things he hated, and Christmas was at the top of the list.

"Oh Grimmy! Don't be so miserable! It's Christmas!" she tried to coax some happiness out of him, never one to give up on a lost cause. Grimmjow winced at the use of his childhood nickname.

"Please leave if you have no other business here Neliel, I have lots of work to do! I cannot be kept in luxury by a rich husband like yourself!" he spat the words at her, enjoying the way her features dulled at his words. "Anyone waltzing around with 'Merry Christmas' on their lips should be boiled with their own turkey!"

"Very well brother. She walked towards the door, opening it onto the cold street outside "Merry Christmas!" she called back as she closed the door behind herself.

"Merry Christmas" the chorus of his employees sent Grimmjow's blood boiling. He growled low in his throat, staring daggers of ice at them.

"Shut up and get on with your work! Or you will have a very unemployed Christmas and new year!" his voice was back to a shout again, watching intently as they returned eagerly to their work. Having finally regained control of the offices Grimmjow could get on with some actual work.

What seemed like only half an hour later aqua eyes glanced up at the clock above the fireplace. Seeing that it was nearly five thirty he looked out across the office.

"You can close up now" his deep baritone filled the space easily "I shall see you at eight o' clock sharp tomorrow" he closed the book on his desk and returned it to its shelf.

"But sir, it's Christmas day tomorrow" Ishida stared at him incredulously, almost as if he had grown another head.

"And?" Grimmjow stared back at the raven haired man, the straight strands framing his angular face. Ishida pushed the glasses back up his nose with the middle finger of his right hand before turning away from his boss.

"Sir, if I may contribute, we will not do good business tomorrow, everywhere else will be closed for Christmas" a slim man with emerald eyes and raven hair spoke quietly yet surely. "It will be a waste of coal to heat the offices"

Grimmjow stared blankly at the normally silent employee, Ulquiorra, and nodded slowly to acknowledge he had made a good point. "Very well then, take tomorrow off if you must" a wave of excited murmuring broke out among the employees "BUT be here at six o' clock the next day!" he increased the volume of his voice over the chatter. His request did nothing to dull the worker's spirits and they went about tidying away the day's work, chatting excitedly and swapping plans for the next day.

Grimmjow moved out of his office and grabbed his heavy coat, swirling it over his shoulders and opening the dark wooden door, grabbing his hat as he walked through it. When he got outside he pushed the top hat onto his head, once again flattening the unruly blue strands to his head. The streets still seemed as excited and busy as they had that morning, chatter and bustling feet creating a thick blur of noise which irritated the blue haired man no end.

The walk to his house was a short one, lengthened slightly by the still icy streets which made his steps slower and more cautious. As he reached the end of the street, on which his terraced, three story house was situated, he saw two men standing outside his front door. One with pitch black hair which fell below his shoulders and dark eyes and the other who contrasted him with frost white hair and a much shorter frame.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" he sauntered up to them, still keeping his steps cautious on the ice.

"Good evening" the dark haired man strode towards him, his posture radiating his upper class background "Mr. Jeagerjaques?" his tone emphasised his question.

"That's me" Grimmjow stared quietly into the man's eyes, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"I'm Byakuya Kuchiki and this is Toshiro Hitsugaya, tonight we are here on behalf of the poor and homeless of London. We hope that you would be so kind as to make a small donation, seeing as Christmas is the time for caring for the less fortunate members of our society"

"Sorry gentlemen, I'm not interested in making any donations, thank you" he moved towards his black front door, the brass door knocker polished to a glint in the light of the street lamps.

"But Mr. Jeagerjaques, even a tiny donation would help someone in need to have a better Christmas, hundreds die in the cold at this time of year" the short, frost haired one stepped forward, Grimmjow had already forgotten his name.

"Well they had better do it then and decrease the surplus population!" he turned back to face the two men, who were lower than his eye level as he was standing on his doorstep. "Good night gentlemen!" the tall dark haired one opened his mouth again slightly, as if he was going to speak. However upon a piercing glare from Grimmjow both men turned on their heels and walked around the corner and out of the street.

"Damn charities!" Grimmjow mumbled to himself as he fished in his pockets for his keys. He took a glance at the brass door knocker, stepping back in shock as the metal shifted and changed until it resembled the face of his deceased business partner. "What the-" he moved forward again, feet shuffling only half a step back towards his original position at the door. "A-Aizen?" as he peered closer at the brass it shifted once more, back to the moulded shape of a roaring lion.

Grimmjow shook his head as if his hair were wet before holding his keys up to the lock. He was barely able to control the shaking in his hands as he unlocked the door and rushed inside. The hairs on the back of his neck rising up and tingling as he bolted the door shut behind him, checking it twice to make sure it was secure.

"Humbug!" he mumbled to himself when he was inside. Raking the match across the roughened box to light the candle he kept by the door was a part of his routine which allowed him to relax just a fraction. He left the lamps unlit on the first and second floors as he ascended the stairs to his bedroom. He looked behind him repeatedly, breath hitching as he turned his head; the prickling hairs at the nape of his neck giving him the horrible feeling that someone was behind him. "Dammit Grimmjow pull yourself together!" he mumbled to himself again as he nudged the door to his bedroom open, lingering in the doorway to allow him to survey the room. Once he was satisfied at the emptiness of his bedchamber he moved over to the fireplace. After shovelling a small handful of coal into the grate and letting it catch light he sunk into the plush chair and watched the flames dance.

A sinking feeling of being watched washed over him as he sat there, forcing him to look back towards his chamber door. What he saw there forced him to rise out of the comfy chair and back up against the fireplace. he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, lungs and voice box not communicating with his brain so he could vocalise his thoughts. Instead he was forced to stand and gape at the apparition of his former business partner who stood in the doorway.

"Ai-Aizen!" he looked into the brown eyes of the ghostly form of his friend "Is it really you?" he glanced down over the dark robe which engulfed the tall, wiry frame, drawing in a shocked breath when he saw the almost infinite length of heavy chain coiled time and time again around the man's waist, arms and legs.

"Yes Grimmjow, I'm here to warn you my friend" his eyes were sad, worlds apart from the harsh, calculating look they possessed when the brunette man was alive. "Mend your ways Grimmjow" his fingers coiled around a few links in the chain around him "I forged these links when I was alive, every man I wronged, every family I cast mercilessly onto the street and every charitable donation I didn't make added a link to this chain. Now I must be bound by it for eternity" he waved his hand slowly in Grimmjow's direction.

Grimmjow felt a heavy sensation as the movement was made, cold metal materialised to rest against his palms. He looked down to see a chain wrapped around his own muscular torso, albeit much shorter than Aizen's, but it still coiled around him several times and more ran across the floor. "What the-?" he lifted the heavy metal up to his eye level, staring in shock at the well forged links. The metal seemed to resonate with the misdeeds he had already carried out.

"Tonight you will be visited by three more ghosts, the first will arrive when the clock strikes twelve" Aizen waved the chains away from Grimmjow's arms and waist, hauling up an armful of his own and moving towards the door "Heed their warning's Grimmjow, before it's too late!" a sudden wind made the fire splutter in the grate, once Grimmjow had seen that it wasn't extinguished and looked back to the door his business partner had vanished without a trace. Only the faint chinking of chains could be heard if he strained his ears hard enough.

"Humbug!" Grimmjow walked over to his bed, slowly shedding the layers of his work clothes before crawling under the covers for a good night's rest. He intended to be up early and make the most of a day without the distractions of his workers.


	2. Chapter 2

A bleached Christmas Carol – Part Two: the Ghost of Christmas Past

The large antique clock which resided on the expansive mantelpiece ticked ever closer to midnight. The smallest hand just seconds away from striking twelve; three, two, one. The chime which announced the hour did not stir Grimmjow from his sleep, he was instead awoken by a harsh light filling the room. It filtered through his eyelids, forcing him to open them slowly, lids still heavy with the residues of sleep. He stared bleary eyed through the eerie, pink tinted glow, finding the source after a few moments. He was staring at a pink haired man, ornately framed, silver rimmed glasses perched on his thin, angular nose.

"Who the hell are you?" Grimmjow sat up quickly, the bed sheets pooling around his waist in a crumpled heap.

"I am the ghost of Christmas Past" his voice was smooth, like warm caramel, and had a slightly feminine undertone to it "And I am here to help you mend your ways Grimmjow Jeagerjaques"

"Of course you are. It's just a shame I ain't interested then isn't it?" Grimmjow sunk back to the comfortable mattress, pulling the sheets high over his head so as to cover his tousled blue hair. "Turn the light off on your way out too, pink really isn't my colour!" he squeezed his eyes shut against the pink glow.

He growled quietly when the light persisted to glow through his eyelids, the volume of it rising in his throat when a pair of bony, yet strong hands gripped on to his muscular shoulders. He was hauled out from under the warm sheets, out into the cold of the room. The chill was only made worse by the fact that the panes of the window were pushed up, letting the freezing winter night air in. Grimmjow watched the billowing curtains for a moment, only being brought back to the moment when his teal dressing gown was shoved into his bare chest.

"Put that on, you'll catch a death otherwise!" the pink haired male regarded him with honey coloured eyes.

"Is that supposed to be a joke spirit?" he thrust his arms through the soft, warming fabric, quickly tying the cord around his waist.

"Follow me" he took Grimmjow's wrist and led him over to the open window. He swifly hopped up onto the sill, thin frame now towering above Grimmjow. "You may want to hold on to my sleeve, we don't want you to make a mess in the fresh snow now do we?" he offered the blue haired man his arm and after a moment's hesitation Grimmjow climbed up on the sill and took hold of a fist-full of the crisp white jacket the spirit wore. Three angular black stripes ran vertically down from the front of his neck and changed direction to flow around his left side, the dark pattern was harsh against the white.

Once the fabric was safely clasped in Grimmjow's hand the ghost leaped from the sill in one fluid moment. Grimmjow was jerked along after him, being unprepared for the jump he stumbled from the sill ungracefully, feet slipping in the layer of snow on it. He would never admit to the thoroughly unmanly noise which escaped his lips at the plummeting sensation when he tripped from the window. However after a second or so, which to him felt like a year, he was pulled upwards again. He searched for honey eyes, finding the spirit looking down at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Looking forward to the horizon Grimmjow saw white haze lighting up the sky. "It can't be dawn already... what is that light spirit?"

"That is the past Mr. Jeagerjagues, your past. And please, call me Szayel" the man's voice was strangely relaxing, his words led fluidly into one another in a soft rhythm.

"What?" even the soft tone couldn't calm him from that revelation.

"I am the ghost of Christmas _past _Grimmjow. What was it that you were expecting? Surely time travel is not out of the question once two ghosts have revealed themselves to you!"

"Of course. Makes sense I guess." Grimmjow felt his stomach performing acrobatics which would score a perfect ten as they were swallowed by the white haze.

Their feet landed on crisp white snow, yet to be imprinted by any footprints. Grimmjow stared at the tempting white blanket, wanting to track his prints all over it. He was distracted by the all-too-familiar building in front of him; his old school. An overly strict boarding school which valued everything he was not. As a child he had been loud and brash, the shock of blue hair a point of endless teasing at unwanted interest.

"Let's go inside shall we?" Szayel spoke quietly, as if he knew he would be interrupting Grimmjow's memories. Without waiting for an answer he took the living man's wrist and led him through the snow, towards an imposing set of oak doors.

Grimmjow's heart jumped as Szayel passed through the door, a sinking feeling accompanied the thought that he himself might not be able to pass through the thick wood. He scrunched his eyes up tight, waiting for the hollow sound of his impact against the door, but it never came. Instead he opened his eyes in a dimly lit foyer. A small head of messy blue hair was infinitely brighter than the candles which provided the lighting, their dynamic orange light dancing on the stone walls. Grimmjow let his mouth fall open at the sight of his younger self, pools of Caribbean Sea were fixed on the wooden door they had just passed through.

A tall, thin man with black hair which sat in spikes on his head passed through the door next to the boy, causing the blue eyes to turn on him.

"Master Grimmjow, I'm afraid Mr. Kuchiki will not be sending anyone to collect you this year. You can take your belongings back up to your room" with that the man walked from the room once more, his steps rapping on the flagstone floor. The young boy shifted his head into his hands, back shaking slowly with silent sobs.

"Is this really necessary spirit? I know my adoptive father was a bastard. You are telling me nothing new!" Grimmjow could not tear his eyes away from his distressed younger self, wishing he could tell the boy not to expect anything other than disappointment from his raven haired 'father'.

"Lets see another Christmas shall we?" with that Szayel waved his hand once, throwing the scene into a blur of people and action. Finally the rushing figures slowed and the blue haired boy was now a lanky teenager, long legs stretched out in front of him as he sat on the same wooden bench in the foyer, staring at the door. His face was angular, handsome and free of the shadows of his older self. He looked almost happy. Grimmjow knew what was coming, and he didn't want to see it again, even the thought of what was to come made his chest too tight.

"Please no spirit, any Christmas but this one! I beg of you!" he tried to leave, turn on his heel and run but was stopped in his tracks by the simultaneous tug of Szayel's hand on his wrist and the flinging open of the wooden doors.

A lean, fairly tall teen stood in the doorway. His orange hair was almost as outrageous as Grimmjow's own, and the brown eyes only increased the tight feeling in Grimmjow's chest. Black trousers hugged his thin legs close, a long trench coat moved around his knees slowly.

"Ichigo" Grimmjow said the man's name even though he knew that he was just a ghost in the scene. The name still felt the same as he said it, the same as it had all those years ago.

"Ichi!" his teenage self rose quickly from the bench, moving to meet the other teen half way and pull him close to his chest. "I'm so glad you came!"

"Why wouldn't I?" mercurial chocolate eyes met the young blue ones, although his smile did not quite touch them. He moved up to press his lips to Grimmjow's in a slow kiss.

"Please can we leave spirit?" Grimmjow begged again as his younger self moved to collect his bags before walking out of the foyer with the orange haired man, hand coiled lightly around his waist.

"Sorry Grimmjow, you need to see" he led the man outside, bringing the teenage couple back into sight once more. The spirit's hand was still clamped around his wrist, imprisoning him in the memory, the nightmare. He looked on; somehow unable to screw his eyelids shut and stand in darkness. He knew he would still be able to hear the scene anyway, so such actions would be futile.

"I have a place we can stay for Christmas, we can get a goose and invite your family" his teen self spoke with a voice dripping with excitement, he was almost dancing on the balls of his feet as he shoved his suitcase into the back of the carriage. White horses shifted restlessly at the front of it, their hooves silenced somewhat by the soft snowfall.

"Grimmjow I-" Ichigo spoke quietly, eyes falling to the floor as his hands wrung worriedly.

"Oh right, we can go to spend Christmas with them then, don't worry about-"

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo placed a finger to the blue haired teen's full lips, silencing him. A determination had arisen in his eyes, as if he'd finally decided on something and needed to act before he changed his mind again. "I wont be spending Christmas with you. I'm sorry."

Grimmjow could only watch on has his younger face fell, shadows rushing in to the once bright features. He tore his eyes away and looked back to the pink haired ghost, who watched on with expressionless mustard eyes.

"Why not? Has my father talked to you? I don't care what that bastard thinks any more, I can make my own money now" his younger self stepped closer to Ichigo, voice rising an octave.

"It's not that Grimmjow, my family want me to marry. I can't tell them the truth, you don't make enough to support both of us, it just wouldn't work!"

"Marry? But-" the blue haired teen could only stare at his lover in shock.

"She's ok actually, her name is-"

"I don't want to know!" Grimmjow could remember the sinking feeling of his heart plummeting to his feet as if it was fresh again as he watched his younger self interrupt the orange haired man. "Please Ichigo. I can support us, the job I will get will pay more than enough money, I'll just work extra hours. Just tell your family-"

"Grimmjow, I can't do that." He raised a hand to blue locks, moving through the soft strands before tracing his fingers down the teen's cheek as if he wanted to remember it. "I love you but I can't do this anymore. It wouldn't be fair."

"Please Ichi, I love you too"

"You did once" Grimmjow's older self felt again the jolt to the heart that came with those words, remembering all the times he had favoured work over meetings with Ichigo, hoping to make enough money to get a house for them both. Instead he had pushed the boy away. His tears matched those rolling down his younger self's cheeks. "Goodbye Grimmjow, live well" he brushed his fingers over his lover's cheek once more before turning and walking away slowly. From this angle Grimmjow could see the sadness on the boy's face, a turmoil that his younger self had never seen.

"Please, no more Szayel" he turned to the ghost, wanting to just get back to his bed and disappear under the sheets. "I've seen more than enough"

"Just one more Christmas" Szayel took his wrist once more, leading him away from his younger self who was climbing numbly into the back of the carriage. They were once again engulfed by the white haze, emerging outside a well decorated set of offices. An excess of Christmas decorations adorned the place. Candle arches illuminated every window and a wreath adorned every black door, a red ribbon forming a lush bow on each one. Inside several trees could be seen in the large foyer, towering above the crowd of people gathered inside.

"This is Seiretei, the Abarais' business. My first job was here. This must be their Christmas party!" Grimmjow walked towards the window, through which he had spotted a shock of blue hair.

Szayel quietly took his wrist again and led him inside. The music played by the live band filled the room, there was a space cleared in the middle to act as a dance floor and couples danced around it merrily. He spotted the long table which held the feast for the evening nestled underneath the twin marble staircases which led up to the higher floors and the offices. A short, ebony haired woman sat on a high back chair in the middle of the table, happily tucking in to a plate of food. Her husband sat next to her, bright holly-berry red hair pulled up into his characteristic spiking ponytail; a wide smile on his face as he watched his wife enjoying her meal. Grimmjow smiled at the pair, remembering how envious he always was of their easy, loving relationship.

A figure walked past him swiftly, the young man's shoulder passing through his own as he stood, invisible in the scene. He looked after the man and saw his younger self heading towards the couple sat at the main table. He followed himself quickly, not disguising his movements as he knew he would go unseen.

"Mr. Abarai, this party is hugely expensive to the company. I was just adding up the figures and-" he was silenced by the man tearing the paper he was holding out of his hand and offering a mince pie to him.

"Grimmjow, I told you to call me Renji, and what does the expense matter? It's Christmas my boy!" he turned back to his wife "Rukia, it's blatantly obvious he was raised by your brother"

"Isn't it just! Grimmjow dear, just enjoy yourself! It's Christmas!" she smiled at him, raising her full glass before taking a long sip from it.

"Best do as she says!" Renji smiled at him before returning to his seat. With that the teenage Grimmjow moved back into the crowd of people watching the dancing, he grabbed a fresh drink from one of the waiters, whose blonde hair was cut in a sharp, shoulder length bob.

"Merry Christmas Master Jeagerjaques" the man smiled widely at him.

"And to you too Shinji" his younger self smiled, a curve of the lips which was very convincing. He took a sip of the drink and looked out to the dance floor. Aqua eyes widened as he spotted a flash of orange on the dance floor. He watched on wordlessly as he saw Ichigo dancing with a tall, curvaceous woman. Her hair was almost the same shade as his, just a little less outrageous; it fell down the length of her back, swaying as she danced. The young blue haired teen was enveloped in thoughts as he watched the slim man dance, hips moving with a economical purpose, not a millimetre of extra space was taken. His legs moved elegantly, long, defined muscles evident through the dark slacks he was wearing. Sharp clavicles you could latch a coathanger on were on show due to the three buttons left undone on the dress shirt. The teen remembered tracing kisses over those curved bones, moving softly into the muscles of his neck.

"C'mon Rukia, dance with me!" Renji's voice interrupted the boy's thoughts, making him jump slightly, sloshing his drink dangerously close to the rim of his glass.

"Renji, I just ate too much, I'll be sick!" Rukia protested while letting herself be dragged by her red haired husband.

"Just a slow one sweetie! Please, we always have our dance!" he waved to the band, indicating to them he wanted the pace slowed. They obliged, a sweet, flowing rhythm filling the space. The couple took to the dance floor to the sound of a wave of cheers and clapping from the watching crowd for their hosts. Renji led Rukia into an elegant waltz, but both the young and older Grimmjow were still captured by Ichigo, moving over the floor with the nameless woman. He had never found out her name, not wanting to know. Suddenly brown eyes locked with young blue ones, both widening in shock. Ichigo faltered in his step for a second before continuing to dance with the woman. The teen Grimmjow turned and vanished back into the crowd.

"Come Mr. Jeagerjaqes, my time is up" the pink haired male brought him crashing from his thoughts as he stared at the orange haired male like he was the source of life. He fisted his hand in the sleeve of the ghost's jacket and was lifted from the scene, the colours and people running away like water down a drain. Moments later he was back in his bedchamber, the window closed and the darkness banished by the pinkish aura of the spirit. "The next ghost will arrive when the clock strikes two. Please learn from us Grimmjow, before it is too late"

With those words the ghost was gone, along with the eerie pink light. Grimmjow crawled back into his bed, mind filled with a distinct shade of orange and the comfort of brown eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

A Bleached Christmas Carol – Part Three: The Ghost of Christmas Present

_Since it is Christmas again I will continue this fic, and hopefully finish it as I will probably be up late anyway ^^ Enjoy!_

Grimmjow must have finally fallen asleep after the night's opening events as he was harshly awoken by the clock's dual strikes announcing the hour. As his level of consciousness rose he could hear a rustling in the room next to his.

"W-who's there?" now he looked he could see a warm glow spilling through the open doorway.

"You'd better come and find out hadn't ya?" the strange voice that answered him made him jump.

Slowly, Grimmjow rose to his feet, pulling his dressing gown closer around him as he walked towards the yellow aura of the room next door. The first thing he noticed when he walked in was the vast amounts of food and wine spread out on tables he didn't own.

"What the-" he gazed around at the feast, taking a while before he noticed the tall, incredibly thin figure stood by the roaring fireplace.

"Hello Grimmjow" a white strip of cloth hid the man's left eye while a wide grin split his lips apart. "I am the ghost of Christmas Present, but you can call me Nnoitra!"

"Nice to know" Grimmjow picked a chunk of one of the cheeses from the table, chewing it slowly as he regarded the odd looking spirit. "Wanna show me what you wanna show me so I can get back to sleep? I have work tomorrow you know?"

"Tomorrow? That is not my concern, I am the ghost of Christmas present!"

"Funnily enough I know that! Just get on with it!"

The lanky spirit advanced towards him, steering him by the shoulder. After he has been turned around by the guidance Grimmjow found himself outside in a snowy street, in front of a row of well kept houses. He was pushed towards a certain window in particular. Peering inside he caught sight of his sister's sea green hair. She was stood facing her guests, gesturing animatedly with her slender, elegant hands.

"Neliel" Grimmjow reached up to place his hand on the glass, but instead his fingers moved through the window. As he went inside his ears were met with laughter and excited voices.

"Is it a rat?" a curvaceous woman with cropped blonde hair chimed in.

"A cockroach?" this time a man with shoulder length brown hair contributed to the conversation.

"We give up Nel!" Grimmjow looked in the direction of Nel's husband as he spoke. He had never liked Ryuuken, they always clashed whenever Nel tried to bring them together. The man could almost be Nel's father, and Grimmjow had always hated that, even though the man had never done any wrong to himself or Nel at all. "What is mean hearted, reclusive and always cold?"

"I was describing Grimmjow Jeagerjaques!" the small gathering burst into laughter at her words.

Grimmjow glared at his sister, firstly because of her harsh joke at his expense, but after a while he realised that her joke had solid foundations.

"There is more to see Grimmjow" Nnoitra took him by the shoulder and steered him out of Nel's front room and towards another, shabbier window. Inside he saw a woman he didn't recognise leaning over the stove, stirring the contents of various pans before moving to check on the small goose which was roasting over the open fire. After a few minutes familiar voices reached his ears. He turned to see Uryuu and Ulquiorra walking towards the front door of the house, Ishida holding the legs of a small, ebony haired child who was sat on his shoulders. He followed them inside, watching as they sat at the table, the young boy excitedly chattering about the roast goose he would be eating.

"Why are you showing me this?" he turned to the spirit as the woman placed dishes of food on the table in front of her family.

"Just watch Grimmjow" he turned the blue haired man back to face the table as Uryuu raised his glass in a toast.

"To the founder of our feast, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques!" he watched as his family all glared at him blankly.

"Founder? Whatever has that miserable miser got to do with our Christmas?" Uryuu looked surprised at his wife's outburst.

"He pays my wages sweetheart, we at least owe him a small toast"

"Wages that aren't worth the work you put in!" she shared slices of meat between their plates as she spoke angrily. Suddenly the youngest boy who had been sat on his father's shoulder's burst into a loud coughing fit, the movement racking his tiny, sickened frame. His mother moved quickly to him, holding him close to her while he calmed down.

"Come, Grimmjow, my time is up" hands clasped Grimmjow's shoulders and moved him into the street outside.

"Spirit, will the ill boy live?"

"I do not know, I only know of the present. Goodbye Grimmjow" with his words the tall spirit vanished into the ether, leaving Grimmjow alone on the snowy street.


	4. Chapter 4

A Bleached Christmas Carol – Part Four: The Ghost of Christmases Yet To Come

_Okay, just one part left after this one! There will be a happy ending! Thankyou for your kind words in the reviews, glad to know you enjoyed the fic! _

Grimmjow heard the chiming of the bell on the church clock as it struck three. He looked towards the tower and the white face of the clock. A tap on his shoulder startled him and made him whirl round. As soon as he caught sight of what must be the third spirit of the night he wished he hadn't turned round. The ghost was as white as the snow on the ground, including his hair and lips. The only break in the snowy white were his black nails and his eyes; their sclera were black, with yellow irises which practically glowed in the darkness.

"You're a handsome one aren't you?" his voice cracked as he spoke. The spirit said nothing, instead grabbing his wrist and leading him through a warped and shimmering patch of air. They emerged onto a buzzing street, full of bustling people each heading in different directions. Eventually they came into earshot of a group of well dressed men, Grimmjow even recognised some of them as fellow businessmen. They were talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"He's finally gone! Thought he would never leave the miserable man!" a tall, heavy set man roused a laugh from the others with his words.

"I hear no one is going to his funeral" another man chimed in.

"It's how he would have liked it!" the first man spoke again, another round of laughter went through the group.

"Who's death has brought these men such joy spirit?" the white figure merely pointed at a small building on the other side of the street, prompting Grimmjow to go inside.

"My my, they're still warm! I don't give you extra for that you know!" an old man sat with a large sheet draped in his hands.

"Warm? Surely the git had no warmth to give even to his sheets?" an elderly woman laughed at her own joke while the man surveyed the sheets.

"I'm sure his bed curtains will be of value too!" another woman approached the man, handing him richly dyed dark cloth "The miserable man barely had anything in those rooms! It's a wonder what he did with his life really! Apart from work all day and be sour about it"

"Spirit, what does this man's death have to do with me?" he turned to the spirit who was regarding him with those strange, blacked out eyes.

When he turned back around he was once again in Ishida's house. They were sat in front of their roast goose, but the little boy who had spoken so excitedly of the dinner the time before was noticeably absent, his chair sitting empty by the table. Grimmjow glanced at Uryuu's expression as he pushed his food around the plate.

"Please spirit, no more" he looked into vivid yellow irises before turning back to face a graveyard. A long, bony, white finger indicated a nearby gravestone. The fresh, cheap stone was covered in the thin layer of snow. Curious, Grimmjow wiped the snow off the stone. Finally being able to read the inscription carved into it.

'_Here lies Grimmjow Jeagerjaques'_

"Is it me they were talking about then? Did my death cause so much joy?" Grimmjow clung to the white robe of the spirit frantically, receiving only a curt nod in reply to his questions. "I can change! I can! Just give me another chance spirit!" he leaned further into the figure before him, only to find himself falling forwards.

He landed on a cold wooden floor, his cold wooden floor. He stood up quickly, pinching his arm to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He was back home, in his bedchamber and nothing was out of place, his sheets and curtains were still there in one piece, and the ashes from the fire the night before were still in the grate.

"Thank God!"


End file.
